writing in metaphors tonight
This week, I heard in radio news, of a woman who tried to take her peacock on an air plane. She said that the peacock was her emotional support pet and needed to travel with it. The airline said.....um.....no.
Emotional support pets, therapy dogs, etc. have become rather popular. We are all 'fessing up to our emotional weaknesses and frailties and are asking if we can have permission to have a pet to help us compensate. I'm guilty. I did it, too. I begged and begged my husband to let me get a dog, thinking it could be an emotional and therapeutic help for Precious. He reluctantly agreed.....and now we have 2 domestic dogs, a big one and a small one. Both are needy......and neither are "therapeutic". In fact, I could use some "therapy" to manage both of them. Well, that's not altogether true. They are our pets and they give and receive love in this home every day......but still. If you need a therapeutic pet and are able to receive a grant or pay a fee, you can actually get one that legitimately will help you. It is a real thing.
My mom has an emotional support pet. His name is Tripper. He is a "Little Caeser" dog, like on the commercials? He is a Shit-zu Maltese mix, I think. Many years ago, my mom was married to my step-dad Jim and he had had a stroke. He was in a nursing home and she was struggling to go sit with him every day and still feel like she was living a life. She had much life left to live. She decided to get a puppy and she took him to the nursing home every day to sit with her while she sat with him. The nursing home residents and staff loved him. She named him Tripper because he would step in front of people and trip them up. She loved him and he loved her. When my step-dad passed away, Tripper was the warm body and the living thing she came home to. They were a team.
Tripper is a crazy dog. He has certain characteristics that are both endearing and annoying. I know this because whenever my mom was gone, Tripper would come here. We would take care of him, walk him, feed him, play with him. As time went on and our family changed (and we added "therapeutic-not" dogs ourselves) he came less often, and yet, he always knew that I was his person. My mom calls him my fur-brother but I just cannot go there. Tripper takes a lot of time to pee and to poop. Like. A lot. He has to have everything perfect and squirt 20 times every time he goes out. He is a prince and he is demanding. Annoying. Frustrating. but. her baby.
My mom is on vacation this week. She called me yesterday in a bit of a crisis. Her dog-sitter had influenza and was miserable and needed Tripper picked up ASAP. She is in Arizona for another 4 days....could I help? Could I help? Of course. She came to our home every Tuesday for 10 weeks straight while we went to foster care classes, she picks up and drops off my kids regularly, she is Nana. I rearranged my day and got Tripper from the sitter and took him home.
At this point in my narrative I should mention that Tripper is blind. He is 14 years old and in the last 6 months has developed a tragic glaucoma that is stripping him of his sight, his confidence and his love for life. He needs eye drops 3 times a day to relieve the pain and pressure and maintain a quality of life. I went there twice yesterday and 3 times today and spent the night with him and guided him outside in the bitter cold to poop and pee.....and let him sleep on my legs....and have been giving him eye drops on schedule....and quite frankly, I have been grieving for him. Over him.
My mom's emotional support dog is entering the last of his days. He has been a stellar companion to her. He has loved her and received her love. He has been feisty and impressionable and useful. He will not be with us a long time. He bumps into the door, the snow bank, my legs. He gets frustrated and impatient. He bit me last night because he wanted to stay outside longer and it was 11pm and I was exhausted and wanted to go to bed.
She has to switch places soon (and become HIS emotional support helper) and walk through his last days. Good grief. We love people and we love our pets and there is so much give and take in both.
I have dogs too, and one of them, my German Shephard, is significant to me in many ways. I understand why my mom will pay for eye drops that have to be given multiple times a day, and why she will try so hard to keep her fur-baby comfortable. I have my reasons why I would maybe do the same for Lexi.
I watched Tripper, yesterday and today. In his new disability with blindness, he has become smaller and quieter. He is less confident. He is unsure. He is......fragile. He was not fragile a few months ago before this all started, in spite of his long life of 14 plus human years. He is fragile now. He is dependent. He is.......still Tripper. He needs to pee 20 times every time he goes out and he takes forever to poop, He is her dog, her emotional support animal and he matters.
Roger will go and sleep there tonight with him. I am exhausted and need to sleep in my bed. Tomorrow I will go again and give him his drops and take him for walks until mom comes home again on Monday.
Imagine with me, that you are living strong and well and safe and then you wake up one day and you cannot see. ( Or hear. Or feel. ) Disability is cruel and heartless. If we are willing to have an emotional support animal we must also reciprocate to them.
In this world, we sometimes choose a disability, we choose to know or feel something. We decide to not see suffering, or hear pain, or feel lonliness. Just because we decide it is not our problem doesn't make it not a problem. The problem exists anyway. Tripper still bumps into the door trying to walk back into the house, whether I want to see his blindness or not.
Choose something to see and not ignore. Care about people who are suffering. Take the dog for a walk even if it is late and cold and you would rather be in bed.....metaphorically speaking of course.
Emotional support pets, therapy dogs, etc. have become rather popular. We are all 'fessing up to our emotional weaknesses and frailties and are asking if we can have permission to have a pet to help us compensate. I'm guilty. I did it, too. I begged and begged my husband to let me get a dog, thinking it could be an emotional and therapeutic help for Precious. He reluctantly agreed.....and now we have 2 domestic dogs, a big one and a small one. Both are needy......and neither are "therapeutic". In fact, I could use some "therapy" to manage both of them. Well, that's not altogether true. They are our pets and they give and receive love in this home every day......but still. If you need a therapeutic pet and are able to receive a grant or pay a fee, you can actually get one that legitimately will help you. It is a real thing.
My mom has an emotional support pet. His name is Tripper. He is a "Little Caeser" dog, like on the commercials? He is a Shit-zu Maltese mix, I think. Many years ago, my mom was married to my step-dad Jim and he had had a stroke. He was in a nursing home and she was struggling to go sit with him every day and still feel like she was living a life. She had much life left to live. She decided to get a puppy and she took him to the nursing home every day to sit with her while she sat with him. The nursing home residents and staff loved him. She named him Tripper because he would step in front of people and trip them up. She loved him and he loved her. When my step-dad passed away, Tripper was the warm body and the living thing she came home to. They were a team.
Tripper is a crazy dog. He has certain characteristics that are both endearing and annoying. I know this because whenever my mom was gone, Tripper would come here. We would take care of him, walk him, feed him, play with him. As time went on and our family changed (and we added "therapeutic-not" dogs ourselves) he came less often, and yet, he always knew that I was his person. My mom calls him my fur-brother but I just cannot go there. Tripper takes a lot of time to pee and to poop. Like. A lot. He has to have everything perfect and squirt 20 times every time he goes out. He is a prince and he is demanding. Annoying. Frustrating. but. her baby.
My mom is on vacation this week. She called me yesterday in a bit of a crisis. Her dog-sitter had influenza and was miserable and needed Tripper picked up ASAP. She is in Arizona for another 4 days....could I help? Could I help? Of course. She came to our home every Tuesday for 10 weeks straight while we went to foster care classes, she picks up and drops off my kids regularly, she is Nana. I rearranged my day and got Tripper from the sitter and took him home.
At this point in my narrative I should mention that Tripper is blind. He is 14 years old and in the last 6 months has developed a tragic glaucoma that is stripping him of his sight, his confidence and his love for life. He needs eye drops 3 times a day to relieve the pain and pressure and maintain a quality of life. I went there twice yesterday and 3 times today and spent the night with him and guided him outside in the bitter cold to poop and pee.....and let him sleep on my legs....and have been giving him eye drops on schedule....and quite frankly, I have been grieving for him. Over him.
My mom's emotional support dog is entering the last of his days. He has been a stellar companion to her. He has loved her and received her love. He has been feisty and impressionable and useful. He will not be with us a long time. He bumps into the door, the snow bank, my legs. He gets frustrated and impatient. He bit me last night because he wanted to stay outside longer and it was 11pm and I was exhausted and wanted to go to bed.
She has to switch places soon (and become HIS emotional support helper) and walk through his last days. Good grief. We love people and we love our pets and there is so much give and take in both.
I have dogs too, and one of them, my German Shephard, is significant to me in many ways. I understand why my mom will pay for eye drops that have to be given multiple times a day, and why she will try so hard to keep her fur-baby comfortable. I have my reasons why I would maybe do the same for Lexi.
I watched Tripper, yesterday and today. In his new disability with blindness, he has become smaller and quieter. He is less confident. He is unsure. He is......fragile. He was not fragile a few months ago before this all started, in spite of his long life of 14 plus human years. He is fragile now. He is dependent. He is.......still Tripper. He needs to pee 20 times every time he goes out and he takes forever to poop, He is her dog, her emotional support animal and he matters.
Roger will go and sleep there tonight with him. I am exhausted and need to sleep in my bed. Tomorrow I will go again and give him his drops and take him for walks until mom comes home again on Monday.
Imagine with me, that you are living strong and well and safe and then you wake up one day and you cannot see. ( Or hear. Or feel. ) Disability is cruel and heartless. If we are willing to have an emotional support animal we must also reciprocate to them.
In this world, we sometimes choose a disability, we choose to know or feel something. We decide to not see suffering, or hear pain, or feel lonliness. Just because we decide it is not our problem doesn't make it not a problem. The problem exists anyway. Tripper still bumps into the door trying to walk back into the house, whether I want to see his blindness or not.
Choose something to see and not ignore. Care about people who are suffering. Take the dog for a walk even if it is late and cold and you would rather be in bed.....metaphorically speaking of course.
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